No, it's not the first line of an old joke. Stan has a broken ankle. I can't even begin to explain why, but it seems to be taking at least 6 people to replace him (there seems to have been 11 last night), and that's with him out on a rank old pair of crutches micro managing us all. I am basically the fence manager, fresh cow and newborn calf wrangler and chief executive in charge of putting cows in and letting them back out. We have at least 3 milkers who will rotate out and possibly a neighbor boy to come and learn the ropes in case of an emergency (what! another one??). Oy.
The farmer and the broken ankle